


In The Arms Of An Angel

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Death, Descriptions of Blood, Hurt No Comfort, Injury, M/M, Wounds, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: Quite honestly he was amazed that their luck had lasted as long as it had. Two years of travelling Lucis and thus far they’d managed to walk away from most altercations with nothing more than a few minor injuries; perhaps a dislocated limb or two here and there, but certainly nothing life threatening. It had only been a matter of time of course, their luck had to have run out at some point; it was just unfortunate that it had to expire in the middle of the Leiden desert.





	In The Arms Of An Angel

Quite honestly he was amazed that their luck had lasted as long as it had. Two years of travelling Lucis and thus far they’d managed to walk away from most altercations with nothing more than a few minor injuries; perhaps a dislocated limb or two here and there, but certainly nothing life threatening. It had only been a matter of time of course, their luck had to have run out at some point; it was just unfortunate that it had to expire in the middle of the Leiden desert. 

It really was quite absurd to think that their current situation could have been avoided entirely, had they taken a few more moments to properly scout the area around their chosen haven. They were usually so very cautious. Often spending an hour or more surveying the area before even considering putting their packs down, let alone setting up camp. Had they been more alert, and significantly less exhausted in Ardyn’s case, they likely would have noticed the pack of Coeurls before the creatures came upon them. Not only had their negligence cost them the supplies they could ill afford to lose, it had taken the lives of their dear Chocobos and far too many pints of blood. Ardyn was honestly surprised they’d been able to drag themselves out of sight, taking shelter behind a rocky outcropping, even if it did leave them exposed to the cold of the desert and the various Daemons lurking around.

Gilgamesh had lasted all of five minutes, barely able to move himself to the rocks with his back slashed open as it was, before he’d passed out - had it not been for Ardyn’s quick reflexes the larger man would likely have spilt some brains on the rocks as well as his blood. It was jarring to see the man Ardyn had come to see as an immovable force, weakened and barely able to breathe. He was quite used to healing his own injuries, disgusting as they had been, and healing those of weary travellers and sick villagers, but there was something altogether stomach-churning about trying to do the same for Gilgamesh.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he stripped both himself and Gilgamesh of the clothing on their upper bodies - they could ill afford to be entirely naked with the temperature dropping to almost unbearable levels. Ardyn paused more than once as he attempted to remove the shredded remains of Gilgamesh’s shirt, taking care to not cause any more pain as he fought to free the clothing from the wounds. 

Thinking of him as another patient w in need of his services as perhaps the hardest task of all, but as both his mother and Somnus had often reminded him, a healer could not afford to become emotionally invested in those they aided. Emotions were dangerous and uncontrollable things; things, that if left unchecked, could cost the patient and the healer their lives. However, if there was one thing Ardyn was immensely proud of, it was his self-control. He’d brought countless children and families back from the brink of death before, he could do the same for the one closest to his heart. 

As he put his all into closing the gaping wounds on Gilgamesh’s back, a gift from one particularly angry Coeurl, a small, distant voice in the back of his head reminded him that his own injuries would need tending to. Those could wait, he reminded himself, Gilgamesh was a far higher priority than a steadily bleeding hole in his side. As was often the case, he soon lost track of time, losing himself in the art of carefully stitching flesh back together with his magic. 

It never ceased to amaze Ardyn when he could finally sit back and admire his work, and Gilgamesh’s body as pale and blood covered he was. The Astrals magic truly was a gift, and it was a pity only those of his line - himself in particular - had the ability to use it, the potential should more be able to harness the magic, was astronomical. There would be no need for doctors and their so called ‘remedies’, not when one could literally close a wound by simply holding a hand over it. How many lives could be saved if the Six made their magic accessible? Alas, that was a debate for another day.

Logically Ardyn knew he should do something about his own body, stopping or at the very least slowing the blood loss, but he was so very tired. Clearly he’d underestimated how much energy it would take to heal Gilgamesh. With an almost inaudible groan, he made the decision to lie down, resting his head on Gilgamesh’s shoulder and pointedly ignoring the steadily growing pool of blood beneath them. Surely a few minutes of rest would do him no harm. In an ideal world he would have had the strength to grab his own shirt and use it as a form of blanket, alas, the promised warmth of the shredded fabric remained too far out of reach for his already exhausted body. 

As he laid listening to the faint but thankfully regular thudding of Gilgamesh’s heartbeat, whilst watching the stars above, Ardyn became painfully aware of two things. The first, that if he failed to move fairly soon, it was highly unlikely he would ever stand again. And the second, that if these were to be his last moments, he had no regrets. Yes he’d have liked to rid Eos of the Scourge, but one man could only do so much. And in recent weeks he’d begun to notice that every now and then his skin would take on a sickly grey hue. In reality he probably only had few more months left in him before his body began to succumb to the Scourge. 

Perhaps allowing himself to die peacefully, content in the knowledge he’d successfully saved thousands, his lover now included in that number, was best for everyone. He would be broken upon finding Ardyn’s body nestled up against his, but he would move on - everyone did. Ardyn could only hope that Somnus would take pity on him should he choose to return to Insomnia, Gil could hardly be blamed for the actions of a pack of Coeurls after all. 

Smiling softly to himself, Ardyn dipped his finger in the blood beneath him, and in a fairly macabre display, drew a rough heart on the side of Gilgamesh’s chest. That should hopefully be enough to persuade him that this was Ardyn’s decision, that there was no animosity between them, only love. Should he have had the strength, he’d have liked to have been able to kiss him one last time, however the mere thought of moving was enough to send a pain-filled shudder through his body. 

Despite it all, Ardyn was content. There were worse ways to die than in the arms of one’s lover after all.


End file.
